


Relapse

by IsisKitsune



Series: Beautiful Lie [2]
Category: Blade (Movie Series)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, F/M, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Movie(s), Relapsing, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune
Summary: When King walked into the room and handed Abby the gun, she did the only logical thing she could...She set it out of reach, and demanded, "Talk."





	

**Author's Note:**

> This has heavy references to Relapse, possibly triggering for those going through or have gone through rehab or any similar kind (IE drug abuse) as well as suicide/suicidal tendencies  
> Tagged as drug abuse explained during the talk but be forewarned this could be triggering
> 
>  
> 
> If you know of better tagging for this or if I missed any let me know

Hannibal's head was bowed down, resting in his hands while the room remained in silence. “Abby, please-”

“No,” she'd remained silent, still, once she'd dropped the gun on the far end of the table, out of reach, and waited for King to talk.

“For fuck's sake Whistler you saw, you saw me! The cure, it, it didn't fucking work!”

“It did, you're human.”

“Look at me,” King bared fangs at her, feeling the change take over. “How the fuck can you say I'm human? I damn near ate a fucking familiar!”

Abby finally shifted back a chair sitting across from him as he lowered his head again, “You're not a vampire Hannibal. You were cured.”

“It didn't work, it must be temporary. Something went wrong Abby I can fucking feel it!”

“Then what stopped you?”

Hannibal blinked up at her, feeling heat in his eyes. “What?”

“What stopped you?” Abby got up, making Hannibal wince as she walked away and stare at the gun until her voice finally drifted back. “If you're so hungry, eat up.” King blinked and jerked back at the thwack of something hitting the table. “It's yours anyway, drink up.”

His eyes settled on the bag of transfusion blood, the ones they kept for the times they were cut up bad enough to need it, and read his name on the label. “Abby, don't.”

Abby circled him, forcing herself into his lap and circled her arms around his shoulder, he cringed and turned away from the steady thumping of her pulse. “What's stopping you?” He snapped his teeth closed so hard Abby blinked at the sound as he shoved at her side, forcing her to stand up or else fall to the floor. “That's what I thought. You're not a vampire, King, not anymore. You're an addict, that's all. Something happened,” he cringed away, trying to hide the healing marks on his arm, “that caused you to relapse. And now you're feeling the craving full force. So, what's stopping you?”

King growled and shoved the bag off the table and dropped his head again as he visibly shook. “I know it didn't work. There's something wrong. I know it didn't work.”

“You're craving it, wanting it, hell you can probably even taste it you want it so bad but King,” he blinked away tears as she lifted his head. “You don't need it.”

He felt wetness slip down his cheek, she was right. He was practically itching for it, hell his- his fangs ached for it for fuck's sake but- there's was no unending thirst, no pain, just want. Just craving. Could she be right? He was just a junkie craving a fix. And after so long being clean he'd forgotten what it felt like to want it so bad he could taste it. “I, I bit myself, that's what caused all this?”

“Sounds like it,” Abby got no resistance when she reached out to check his arm. No new bites but still. “Just, don't give in to that urge. Just like you won't give in to the rest of them.”

He nodded, eyes distant, before standing up. “I better get that cleaned up,” his eyes locked onto the red sprayed across the floor, the bag must have busted open.

“'ll take care of it,” Abby grabbed his shoulder.

King just shook his head, “No, I made this mess I'll clean it up.”

“Not this time, I'll take care of that, you go wash up and get some rest.” His eyes finally turned away when Abby nudged him enough to look at her. “Go on, I'll get it. I've tortured you enough today.” Hannibal nodded and headed for a shower, turning back when he reached the doorway. “I'll be there when I'm finished, don't worry, you're not alone.”

He expected her to join him in the shower, as long as it took him to get through it, but she didn't. He hadn't even crossed her path on his way to his room. He kept closing his eyes at every turn he made though so he might just have missed sight of her, half expecting a sudden bullet to the back of the head. But her words still rang in his head, giving him some hope that they were true. 'Just a junkie, looking for a fix,' ran through his mind. That didn't explain the soft thrum he heard in the background whenever he was near someone or the incessant pounding in his ears when he was around people too long. It had to be a side effect, Sommerfield said he'd still have characteristics. The virus had rewritten his fucking DNA after all, that had to be it right?

He was startled from his staring fit once he was settled on the bed when a bottle of Jack was set on the table beside his head, “Abby.”

“I figured, if nothing else, it'll help you sleep.”

He shifted over when she climbed in, “No sex,” he whispered as she huddled closer.

“No Hannibal, no sex. I'm just here to be here. You're not alone.”

He gave a shaky sigh as he pulled her close, letting her head rest under his chin, but he could still hear it, that constant thrum.

He couldn't sleep... He'd laid there for hours, watching the clock tick by as her slow breathing warmed his chest, until the rhythmic thrum became a nerve racking pounding in his ears. He didn't want to but, “Abby,” he got a hum as half asleep eyes blinked at him, he whimpered as he heard the rhyme change to its active pace, “I think it's time for you to go.”

Abby, thankfully, shifted away, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it's... it's too loud.”

She blinked, confused, before nodding and shuffling blankets to step away from the bed. “I'm here if you need me.”

“Thanks Abby.”

“Anytime Hannibal. Just say the word.”

He waited for the door to close, taking with it that now quickening thrum as she left the room. He didn't even hesitate, just grabbed the bottle and spun off the top, resolving to drink until he wasn't thirsty anymore or he blacked out, whichever came first.

When he finally reached the tipping point, and the room was getting fuzzy and dark, he smiled and laid back, 'I really hope you're right about this Abby,' was the last thought he had before, for the first time in weeks, there was no more thrumming or pounding or horrible cravings for red.

 


End file.
